Through the kaleidoscope
by Reyavie
Summary: What Jane Shepard is and was. According to everyone else, of course.
1. Speaks the Father

**notes.** _200 word drabbles through the eyes of those who met Shepard. Little piece to drive off boredom._

_**1)** William Shepard, father.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"She's not a pretty baby."

William Shepard knew his wife. Contradicting her was a bad idea, insulting her was worse. Roses always made her cave in and the way to apologize would include a dinner out after a free day. Telling her after twenty-three hours in labor that their brand new baby girl was ugly would require a week of vacation far from the colony. But the unnamed baby was. Wrinkly and thin, not a trace of hair on her head, silent like death after that first gulp of air. Nothing at all like her older brother had been.

So ugly, he thought. Until her eyes opened. Brown, almost black in the low illumination of the hospital room, instead of the dull grey which would eventually turn into blue. Brown, a dark tone not unlike the earth he worked every day. Such pretty eyes; so much more beautiful in that baby than they were on his own face, every day he stared at them in the mirror.

"What did you just say?"

He had forgotten all about his wife and the way the couch was about to become his permanent resting place.

"She's Jane," William corrected softly. "And she's beautiful."


	2. Says the teacher

_**2)** Miss Lewis, Teacher.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Colony children were boisterous. Miss Lewis had learned soon that the only way to be heard was to speak louder. Otherwise, fists and tears would do the talking. This was one of such episodes.

The black haired girl stood in ashamed silence. Behind her sat the two boys she had slapped – punched, _bit_ – as well as a small Batarian.

"Momma said to look after the youngest. Not hurt them! They tried to hurt him!" Her little finger pointed at the boys and her voice was pure childish outrage.

_Again_. Miss Lewis had been against the Batarian's presence. Children weren't accepting in the best of situation, never mind with such an unusual companion. "Nevertheless, Jane. They don't understand difference. And Matt is a bit…different. You can't solve this with your fists."

The girl raised her head, indignation shifting into confusion. If she was older, Jane would have said something like _what the hell_?

"He laughs and plays. He likes to build things with sand. Likes drawings. Like_ me_. Am I different too?"

Matt smiled by her side – to Jane, not the teacher – and in that action laid the answer to Jane's question.

_Yes_, she was. And he was grateful for that.


	3. Comments the Mother

_**3)** Laura Shepard, mother.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

_Her kid was a menace. Puddle on the road? Jane would jump into it. Couple of kids up to no good? Jane was one of them. If her eldest had appeared in the house claiming to be a biotic, Laura would be surprised. When Jane lost it and smashed one of the neighbor's kids against a wall, the Shepard household had accepted it as obvious._

_There were moments in which she could be calm, however. _

"Aren't you supposed to be doing your chores?"

Every day, Jane would come back from school and sit by their door. Their house was close enough to the spaceport for the girl to watch the ships leave, graceful, full of wonders to her eyes. Like the elders said: kids were born in the colonies, not for them. Jane – her little demon– raised her head and grinned.

"SSV Madrid's around."

The day before had been the Oporto, Jacarta, Athens... It didn't matter which ship would come, Jane would stare at it like it contained her whole future.

"Not my question. Chores."

_Laura hated each and every one. They showed how quickly Jane would fly away in the future. Like any mother, she didn't want it._


	4. Adds the Sister

_**4)** Marie Shepard, sister.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

It was the middle of the night. Marie tried to explain it (_school? Why? Can't I stay in_?) but momma didn't wait, taking her from the bed and into the kitchen, not sparing a look at her as she opened one of the closets.

"Take care of the baby, Jane." Sis was inside, eyes wide and afraid – _a nightmare? Did you have a nightmare? – _and her arms welcomed her soundlessly. Momma touched a finger to her lips. _Silent, it's just a game_.

"Love you, sweetheart."

It didn't feel like one. Games didn't make people cry. And Jane cried, muffling sobs with one hand as momma caressed her hair and, outside, fireworks rose in the air and _exploded_. Momma disappeared, the closet closed and they were left in darkness.

A louder firework rocked _everything_. It must have been amazing. Shame she couldn't see anything beyond sis's chest. When the closet shook, her arms had stopped holding her. Hands reached for the floor, arms stretched, the pretty wood of the closet held on by her back.

"Where's momma?"

Jane didn't smile; tears and sweat mixing against her skin. Marie could taste salt when it fell on her lips. "Talking to God, kitten."


	5. Fears the Friend

_**5)** Matt, Batarian, friend.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"I was sick of being different, Jane."

Matt had seen hatred in human's faces but never in Jane's. Even after they grew up and went separate ways, Jane was still his friend. Asking about his family, hobbies, school projects. Never hatred until that moment.

That wasn't Jane but a Shepard. Short, smudged, bloodied, a baby in her arms – _her little sister, barely older than my brother _– who sank boneless against the teenager's chest – _Was she dead? Please, let her not have died, please, please, please. _Around them laid remains of her home, burned to the ground until little remained. The same from which Jane had emerged once silence fell.

He had never wanted this. He wanted to be with his own people, to belong. That was okay, wasn't it? Wasn't it?

"Leave," Jane – Shepard – declared tonelessly. "Papa called for help. They will kill you."

Matt couldn't be sure if she wanted it. Only that he had no idea what she was thinking and that was frightening. Especially as she kept expressionless, so quiet and unlike her. He turned to leave, not even attempting a goodbye.

"You weren't different before. You are now."

_Now, you are a murderer_, his guilt completes.


	6. Helps the Soldier

_**6)** David Anderson, Alliance military.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Come closer and I'll shoot you."

The girl raised the weapon a little more in the air. It shook, she wasn't used to the weight, the gun or the fact that she was trying to shoot someone. Adding to that the inaccuracy of an Avenger, he wasn't worried over injuries on himself; the girl would likely shoot herself. He would have thought that if it weren't for the blood, staining the ground all around them.

"Look, I'm unarmed," he said softly, placing his own weapon to the side. Fear, she was a child still and deeply afraid. "Systems Alliance. We came to help."

He had seen the look on her face before. Fear and hope, someone pushed to the very edge of sanity; who kept running because if it stopped, it might break.

The gun lowered slightly.

"Did they leave?"

Not all; most were dead. But he nodded anyway.

The weapon lowered all the way before, slowly, reaching the floor. Her whole body began shaking as she knelt.

"I stopped crying," the girl said. Earnestly, like she really needed someone to believe her. "They didn't win."

"Yeah." He touched her hair; her coarse, dusty bloodied hair. "You did good, child."


	7. Teaches the Orphan

_**7)** Robert, orphanage friend.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

The girl washed her hands almost constantly. Didn't speak or played and even after spending the morning sitting while her sister ran around, she would always scrub her hands raw once inside. Like she was sick. In fact, everyone thought so, avoiding the new brat like the plague.

Robert? He was _curious_.

"Did you do something bad?"

The scrubbing stopped and he knew her attention was his. She might be wondering why this question. But people punished themselves when they did bad things – like his mom and drinking; his dad, not showing up for days at a time. People punished themselves all the time. That and whoever was close enough, he had learned.

"Yes."

Progress.

"Did you want to do it?" He pressed.

The girl hesitated, chewing her lower lip carefully.

"I guess."

"Did you _need_ to?"

"Yes."

"Then if it was needed, you couldn't have said no. If so, then you should accept it's over and done with."

Surprise followed, of his words or him speaking, it could be either.

"… why are you saying this?"

Robert shrugged.

"Not the first lost kid around here." He had been one, after all. "Introduce me to your sis? She looks lonely."


	8. Steals the Stranger

_**8)** Fay, adoptive mother of Marie Shepard.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Take care of her." It was never easy to separate families and it wasn't like she or her husband wished it. It was simply impossible for them to support two children.

Fay nodded, eyes drifting towards the girl on the teenager's arms.

"She will be safe with us." A little sardonic smile appeared on Jane's face. Of course. Someone who had been through what they had been wouldn't believe in the concept. "We will love her as if she was our own. You don't need to worry."

The girl's eyes hardened, embrace tightening around Marie. In her action, Fay could almost hear the implied _she is not yours_. She would be though.

"I'm not doing this because I want to." The words were spat out, violence in every sound. "I'm doing this because it's best for Marie. Because they say I can't keep her. And running away would harm her."

Without looking at the couple, Jane kissed her sister, whispered words Fay couldn't understand, made promises with solely her expression. Then turned away, purposely avoiding looking back.

"Will you be okay?"

Jane stopped for a moment.

"Don't pretend. If you cared, you'd also take me."

Fay felt like a monster.


	9. Accepts the Clerk

_**9)** John, Clerk of the Alliance Recruitment Center.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Accepting or rejecting applications for the military wasn't a glorious job. Most came in search for adventure, wishing for fortune and glory. His job was to filter between the bland and ridiculous replies those who could actually be used.

When Jane Shepard stopped at his desk, he did his usual evaluation. Short but strong, a farm kid, likely not much brains in that empty head.

"Why do you want to enter the Alliance military?"

The clerk was granted a smile.

"Because I'm an orphan, I'm homeless, I'm a kid and I have nowhere to go," she recited bluntly. "Shouldn't you worry less about why I want to enter and more about what I can do once I enter? I thought the Alliance would be more practical than making us go through these stupid tests."

How old was this brat again? She sounded disrespectful, immature but rational. Who else fought better than someone with nothing to lose?

Without thinking, he gripped the device which would enter her biometric data and added an accepted in the file. In his confusion, he barely heard the '_hey, Robert! Come to this line, this man looks logical'_ she hollered to the rest of the candidates.


	10. Despairs the Instructor

_**10)** Levi, Biotic instructor, Alliance military.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Tell me again, trainee. What exactly did I tell you to practice this morning?"

The instructor was given a wide round of blank stares and a confused one. The Shepard kid stood in the middle of the circle of fallen students, her eyes open and focused on her hand like it had become one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

"Singularity," she replied slowly.

Singularity was a compression of dark matter, the equivalent to a minor black hole in layman's terms. It attracted foreign objects into a center by means of a strong gravitational pull. It didn't expel them to every corner of a room with strength enough to damage walls.

"So you decided you should do a Nova instead of the assignment?"

"…what I did has a name?"

"Yes," the older man clarified easily, gifting her with a rather sarcastic smile. "When done on purpose, it is a Nova. When by complete accident and the result of attempting the opposite phenomenon, we go with disaster."

This was one kid to send directly into Vanguard training. Before she tried something more destructive like, say, Warp and ended up destroying half the gym on his watch.

God, he hated kids.


	11. Judges the Sergeant

_**11)** Sergeant Dorian, Luna Base Training Center.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"First timer?"

The girl blinked, raising her eyes from her lap. She had been staring at it ever since entering the shuttle. It was a normal reaction, common for new trainees. The idea of being sent into the field with barely six months of training made them freeze. Shame for them, really. Anyone with half a brain would understand it was nothing more than a test. Survive a paltry physical exercise without wetting yourself and you might manage to do something in the military.

"First time on the field," he pressed, trying to break through her apathy. Her gaze was confused, like she wasn't able to grasp his meaning. Fear, of course. This one would be out by the end of the week.

"It's not my first time."

There was something in those words, something dark and bloody, like his dreams after Shanxi. Behind her lethargic eyes and toneless voice. The girl smiled a little; a little older, less of a kid and more of someone who would live inside an armor.

"I'm fine." Her hand rested on her lap. They were shaking.

… liar. And a bad liar, at that. This one wouldn't make it.

Soft-hearted ones never did.


	12. Requests the Sibling

_**12)** Marie Shepard, sister.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

The thing with adoptive parents was that some (her own) believed they needed to give their child everything so it would feel like theirs. They didn't but Marie saw no reason to tell them otherwise. With Jane, things didn't work like that. Her sister gave what little she could – orphan, trainee with little time – and no amount of temper tantrums would change it.

More time with her, was that too much to ask? Jane said it was. That her vacations were numbered and short before she was appointed anywhere. Crying had done nothing. Neither had shouting, complaining or whining.

"Done, kitten?"

Jane was smiling down at her – _still too short, damnit!_ – and it was a familiar smile, one she loved beyond everything. It reminded her of her dark haired mother, strong armed father, a brother who carried her everywhere; a farm, dusty plains and the twinkling of water as soundtrack for miles and miles.

Marie extended her arms, wordlessly requesting, and Jane's closed around her. Her laughter regained that warm quality Marie treasured while losing that sad quality born of powerlessness.

Silently – selfishly – the younger girl asked for the elder to take her with her.

Aloud, ice-cream was requested instead.


	13. Needs the Colleague

_**13)** Robert Dover, Private of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy, 1st Division.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Good thing about marine training was the camaraderie. Most would always have your back. Bar fights, getting out to drink, get in before the sergeant appeared somewhere around 4 am to inform them they were all useless amounts of maggoty flesh. Jane went farther than the rest where it came to him.

Screwing anyone on her bed wasn't included.

"Get out." Jane's foot collided with the girl by his side, complete with a glare as she got up, scrambled for something to dress and ran. Robert didn't bother. Warm bed. Only underwear. Not leaving. "Damnit, didn't I tell you to stop this? You have a bed."

"And Johnson sleeping above me. He watches." Side effect of camaraderie he didn't like. "You know… if we dated, your objection would be null. It'd be you in your bed."

She paused. Then scoffed. "You'd do someone else on my back. And I'd shoot you."

"I wouldn't do that."

God, she was an idiot_._ How blunt he'd have to be to show he was serious? She just had to date _him_. No more other women.

"Tigers can't change their spots," she said simply. "Move over. I need some sleep."

He needed a cold shower.


	14. Interferes the Watcher

_**14)** Mr. Hoffman, World History Instructor & 1st division platoon.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Jane always avoided conversations related to home. They didn't know why. And, when it came down to it, there wasn't a lot to gossip about except everyone else's lives.

"You're from Mindoir, aren't you, Shepard?"

Her pen dug against the paper.

"Been there as a kid," another continued. "Place's kinda cool. Relaxed."

"Going there on break, Shepard? Visit the family?"

Robert kicked a chair, sending one of the privates to the floor, but the damage was done. They had Shepard's attention. And they had never seen her like that, furiously defensive, narrowed eyes and closed fists.

"I am never setting a foot in that place. Not until I die and my body gets dragged there because some asshole thinks I would wish for it."

Enough was enough.

"Shepard. You're in a class. Settle down before you spend the night running circles in the track."

She glared, moody and irritated but shut up. Following an impulse, he approached her table, feeling the need to smooth things.

"They wouldn't prod if you told them what happened."

She didn't raise her head.

"No offence, sergeant," the woman snarled. "But if you can share your issues like they're nothing, I feel sorry for you."


	15. Mocks the Companion

_**15)** Robert Dover, Private of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy, 1st Division.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Her face was contorted in anguish without name, pale as milk and twice as sickly. Jane looked ready to pass out, one hand scratching the wall which gave her support.

"There must be something you can do!"

In her profession, she had heard these same words thousands of times. Always with the same despair, with the same wish for her to make a miracle. But sometimes, not even the strongest of pleads could change the present. It just wasn't possible.

"We have tried everything."

"But…"

She honestly felt sorry for the girl. Bad things happened to everyone. Still, she couldn't be involved, she couldn't feel for everyone.

"I'm really sorry, there's really no hope."

"But, please!"

Time to end this.

"No, Shepard." She raised her voice, cutting the private's before it could continue. "I can't do anything. You're failing math. Come back next year."

Silence finally fell, barely broken as the biotic lowered her head and left through the half-open door. Conversation resumed on the outside.

"Relax, Jane. It's not like someone died or anything."

"You say can that because you passed!"

"I'm incredibly smart. On the way to Engineer, remember? You're basically a human hammer."

"I hate you, Robert."


	16. Shows the Alien

**_16)_**_ Hermia Jassar, Asari Adept._

xxxXXXxxx

Humans classified biotics as freaks of nature. It was expected. Unlike council races, humans were new to the galaxy; children, as ignorant as an Asari of forty. They couldn't see beauty in the unknown. It was why the blue alien sat apart and avoided those around, crossed legs and hands cupped in front of her. Her energy flowed in front of her like a star suddenly dropped to earth. Her watcher, however, had thought her unaware.

"You're staring."

Like a child caught up to mischief, the human stared down instead of facing lavender eyes.

"Sorry. It's just that. What you were doing."

"It is a simple biotic routine."

The human grimaced before rising one hand. A small ball appeared between her fingers, little rays dancing around her skin. It didn't stop growing as hers had; it kept expanding until the girl closed her fingers forcefully, energy exploding like a dying sun.

She couldn't do it. No control or subtlety, different, _unknown_. "There is as much valor in a hammer as there is in a fine blade, _girl," _she commented brusquely. "Care not for lack of beauty as long as you can protect it."

The human smiled, childish and pure.

Beautiful.


	17. Fears the Manager

**_17)_**_ António Costa, Hotel manager, Elysium._

xxxXXXxxx

Working in Elysium wasn't bad. It was like living constantly in a vacation resort, complete with amazing scenery, good infrastructures and a constant flow of tourists and their loaded wallets. It was a decent place to own a hotel. In good days, cash and pleasant customers flowed in in equal measure. In bad days, things like this happened.

God help him, this group was composed solely by military.

The manager tried closing his mouth, not look as horrified. By the woman's expression – amused, the bitch was definitely _amused _–, he hadn't quite managed it and his thoughts were clear for her, at least, to see.

They would destroy the hotel. Everything, top to bottom. That was what military men did when not fighting in wars. They found other things to fight: furniture, bell boys, walls and every idiot who wished to test its resistance to damage with repeated punches.

"I'll keep them away from the whiskey," Shepard informed simply, apparently trying to calm him down.

Which meant he only had to hide the other ninety-nine percent of his alcohol supply?

He charged them all extra, just in case. Preemptive strike, so to speak.

They noticed. And then broke his bar.


	18. Cowers the Cohort

**_18)_**_ Edward Evans, Soldier, __Private of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy, 1st Division__._

xxxXXXxxx

Sirens had replaced the music; a shrill sound underlined by parting shots of faraway assault rifles. They were soldiers, they had no other response. Between the first thought and that moment, they had scrambled for weapons neither felt safe without.

The soldier led his comrades through the destroyed roads, searching for attackers. Two steps behind him was Shepard, both covering the rest of the group; engineers whose greater danger was a bullet too quick for their frailer protection.

That had been the plan. But this was no training.

A flash of biotic energy bypassed him, announcing Shepard's departure. It was fast, unexpected, something he had barely seen even though the woman did prefer close combat. In this situation, it meant danger. He yelled at his companions to stay put before running after her, anxiously silent as a shotgun shot resounded through the air.

Edward found her behind a ruined wall. One foot was pushing a body – a Batarian – against the floor, both hands holding the smoking shotgun as her skin danced with light.

"Shepard?"

The Vanguard spat on the body's face; expression as dark and enigmatic as midnight, violent as a wounded animal.

"What?"

He had no courage to ask.


	19. Fades the Engineer

**_19)_**_ Philip Crawford , Engineer,__Sergeant of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy, 1st Division._

xxxXXXxxx

Red. He saw nothing more than red. Red skin, blots of red on red armor, red on his eyes which searched for his friends. They weren't there, Philip knew, they had been separated in the confusion. He was tired though, in pain and wishing for help. So he searched, as his sole companion pushed him near and continued shooting somewhere above.

"Please, God. Please." Shepard was weak, all of them were. And strong, just like them, just like him. He should have been the one protecting, not her. Shepard had this suicidal streak, too eager to jump into the fray without thinking. He was calmer, a steadier mind. _But so tired_. Sleep took over, long languid waves forcing his eyes closed. It was no longer cold. Her hand was warm on his shoulder, fingers digging and shrill voice repeating _please_ and_ wake up;_ a soothing mantra which overtook any fear.

"Philip, you damned asshole, don't you dare go anywhere!"

She was screaming now. The tone, it sounded even more like a plea than the words she spoke. Poor kid, he wished he could help. He truly did. _Tired, so damned tired_.

Around them, Elysium dissolved to the ground.

He slept.


	20. Assists the Woman

**_20)_**_ Thelma Smith, grocery store owner__._

xxxXXXxxx

Bullets, constant screams, continually overheating weapons. The woman had managed to find several, all resting against her feet. Each rifle was shot until skin burned from contact, then cast aside and replaced by another. Repeat. Breathe, shoot, breathe, shoot; it was almost a melody. Thelma tried looking past the barricade where the woman was making her stand, and saw a bridge, covered with bodies as bullets continued to rain.

The woman was alone. The woman kept fighting.

And no else attempted to help. It was their home! Thelma had never raised a weapon in her entire life but it couldn't be that hard. The woman made it look simple. Take hold, aim, shoot, rinse and repeat and the bodies fell like leaves in autumn.

They were afraid though. They were weaklings, cowering behind that woman because she didn't think, didn't feel, she just acted and, all around her, bodies littered the floor like offerings to some unnamed god.

Ringing announced overheating. Thelma saw the woman's scared look as she fumbled for another rifle and found nothing.

"Thelma!"

She didn't look at her husband. Her eyes were on the barricade as she ran, on every weapon to collect for their protector.


	21. Welcomes the Brother

_**21)** __Robert Dover, Private of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy, 1st Division._

xxxXXXxxx

Hero was an interesting title. It was surprisingly wished by cowards and amazingly hated by those who deserved it.

"Come here." Jane didn't hesitate. Her arms wound up around his neck, head against his shoulder as she sank boneless against his body. There was an exhaustion different than physical constricting her movements and no one noticed. They called her hero but what of the cost? To stand against hundreds meant she had killed hundreds. Blood of hundreds. And she might hate those who took these actions – she did, he couldn't forget her expression every time Mindoir barged into a conversation – but blood was blood. Stains were stains. Soldiers would always be stained and good soldiers would eventually drown in it.

Robert didn't ask the stupid question. She wasn't okay.

"What do you want to do?"

Jane didn't bother with a smile. It would not fool him. "Not think. I don't want to think."

"Sleep?"

"Dreaming."

"Drinking?"

"Biotic, bad reactions and worse hangovers."

"Are you being deliberately stubborn?"

"Yes. It's distracting."

"You basically want me to keep you awake and not sleep?"

"Yes?"

"...you're paying the gallons of coffee I'll require for this."

His arms remained around her as they sat.


	22. Trusts the Captain

**_22) _**_David Anderson, Captain of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

xxxXXXxxx

"You recommended me to the N7 program. Why?"

She had come a long way. Not just as a soldier or person, not because the kid he had known had been left behind but because this woman had grown strong and stronger since those first days. It was a matter of pride for him. Even if, in that moment, Jane was a mix of annoyance and anger.

"You're a biotic and a strong soldier. Why shouldn't I?"

Her eyebrow twitched; any other would have received a request not to insult her intelligence.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

He nodded.

"Cut the bullshit, Anderson. I'm not a kid."

That was enough to drag a smile out of him. David raised his eyes from the datapad, favoring her with a long look. Warm, even.

"I've seen you at your worst, lieutenant." _Bloodied, shredded, fighting._ "And seen you at your best." _Strong, joyful, laughing. _"In all those moments, there was one thing that never changed in you."

Jane kept silent, waiting for the end of the argument.

"You're a survivor," he told her kindly. "And good survivors become the best soldiers. Turn into one and come back here. You'll have a place by me."


	23. Reads the Mercenary

**_23)_**_ Zaeed Massani, mercenary.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

N7 were elite. They were brought up to make the hard decisions, exactly why they were trained by people like him. Killers without ideals.

"Never laugh while you fight," he instructed brusquely. "I don't care how many you kill. The second I discover you treat enemies like fucking training, I will kick you out so fast you won't have time to stop giggling."

There was no defense from her. The thing about any who reached that position was how obeying was had become natural. But they were also people who despised what he was. Shepard might seem dutiful on the outside and still hold no wish to obey him.

"Yes, sir."

"Massani. And the whole killing for revenge thing you got going?" He saw the glint of surprise in her eyes. Probably no one bothered to touch the subject afraid to hurt the brat's feelings. "It's stops now. You kill because you gotta kill."

"Screw you, asshole." Her voice didn't rise above a whisper. "You don't know me."

Yes, he did. He saw her in the mirror.

"Lesson three, not fucking military. Grow a spine and drop the sir."

Her lips twisted into a greasy smile. "Yes, sir."

Little bitch.


	24. Interviews the Reporter

**_24)_**_ Kyle Stone, Alliance News Network reporter.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"And that concludes our interview with Lieutenant Shepard, the youngest soldier ever to receive the Star of Terra."

As soon as those words were said, the officer deflated. Shepard had gone through the entire event straight and nervous; almost as if she was afraid the world would crack if she said a wrong word or smiled in the worst moment.

"You know," the reported started. "You could have relaxed. This was for a small show."

"Oh no." Her head shook quickly. "I don't do that."

"What? Relax?"

That would give a new definition to uptight soldier.

"Relax during an interview." His confusion was obviously on his expression since Shepard started to elaborate. "First time they made me meet a quarian, they explained how the suit worked and requested that I would be allowed to make one question. Most people would wonder about how it is to live in the Flotilla. Wonder about the Geth and their history?"

"And?"

"I asked 'How the hell do you scratch under that thing?'"

Silence.

"That was mostly their reaction too," Shepard sighed, resting her chin against one hand. "I think the Admiral will shoot any ship I'm in on sight next time we meet."


	25. Listens the Younger

**_25)_**_ Marie Shepard, middle-school student.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

A secret mission, she knew nothing else. Only that it had been serious and that was enough to horrify her.

Her sister was this amazing figure in her mind. Stronger, invincible and unreachable. Not this wounded person, covered in bandages over her left side, almost top to bottom. God, it hurt to watch.

"Marie?" Jane was probably wondering who had told her about her injury. "Learned something today. Avoiding sharp objects? Very good idea."

_Don't make jokes, _Marie wanted to say, _this isn't funny and I'm not a child. _

It remained unsaid. Years had passed and the younger Shepard couldn't make herself accept her sister's life as a soldier. It was dangerous, frightening. And Jane would always downplay it for her.

"To be safe," her sister started, reading Marie's worry in her silence. "Your body wants it. That is instinct. That's survival and I'm rather good at it. But I'm not that good at living just yet." She paused and her smile was amused. Even with the traces of blood and pain. "Stop worrying. I'm going nowhere before I figure that out."

Marie glared as if her gaze was a punishment in itself. "You're an idiot."

"Yeah, already been informed."


	26. Shakes the Platoon

**_26)_**_ Fifteenth platoon, infantry, Alliance marines.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"This wasn't planned! What part of _training_ didn't they get?"

Said training had been normal until that point: follow these two to a specific destination. How _that_ plan had ended up t_his_ botched up, it was anyone's guess.

"Yeah," the woman commented while unloading her shotgun on some poor bastard. "Eclipse should totally let you know where their secret bases are before we slap on them by complete accident."

"No one likes a wiseass, Shepard."

If she was violent, that word couldn't be used to describe her companion. He took the words crazy bastard to a whole new level. The guy he was currently introducing a battered old assault rifle to would certainly agree. If he had the other half of his chest.

"Aye aye, sir."

"Fucking damnit, will you quit that?"

Shot.

"Will you make it an order, sir?"

Head was destroyed.

"Cover the left."

Blood splattered the floor like a science project.

"Thought so. Hey, what are you doi— Are you throwing grenades with C4?"

_Oh. Dear. God_. That particular thought was lost in the midst of an explosion which rocked the building to the ground.

Suffice to say, none of the soldiers following them would ever do so again.


	27. Outdrinks the Pilot

**_27)_**_ Jeff Moreau, Flight lieutenant.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Nice to meet you. Those had been the first words they had exchanged. As they were both drunk, further conversation was complicated.

"Where's this ship of yours?"

He blamed his use of 'want to drive my state-of-the-art ship?' on the alcohol.

"Right over there."

Like a father with his new baby, Jeff waved towards the beautiful ship, resting carelessly against the Citadel's dock. He half expected her to be amazed – he surely had been. The woman just blinked.

"The Normandy? That's it? Oy. Are you trying to pick me up with my own ship? What kind of dumb move is that?"

For the first time, Jeff felt like he should have asked for her name.

The thing about alcohol (or in his case!) was that it slowed patterns of thought. Which meant things were hunky-dory and nothing was wrong with how the chick he had brought over entered the Normandy with an 'Ahoy, Matey' to the VI (seriously, what was wrong with the woman?) and tripped over the first consoles.

"By the way. We'll talk tomorrow about your use of the Normandy as pick-up-line."

Part of him was amazed she forgot how to walk but remembered him being an idiot.


	28. Declares the Commander

**_28)_**_ Jane Shepard, Lieutenant-Commander.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

I placed my hands on the window shield. There was no wind in a ship, no mud or dust; the metal underneath my skin felt cool and impersonal. Everything was so clean, even the light and the painting of stars outside the glass.

Funny. I couldn't remember the last time I actually stopped. I was always moving. Ever since Mindoir, since the orphanage, the training centers, Elysium. If I kept moving, I wouldn't wake up with Marie in my arms and the roof against my back. I would be safe. I wouldn't be caught. But now I was in a ship with no place to flee to anymore. I wondered if Anderson knew this – as he knew everything else about me. If he thought I needed it.

_Hey, mom? They say we come from dust but they are wrong. We come from the stars and stars we become. _

I was in a ship, four metal walls and a uniform which felt like home over my skin.

_What do you think of this, momma? Too much? Too weird? Too right?_

Stars couldn't reply. Still, I could swear I knew what she would say.

_Why don't you try it instead of moping?_


	29. Bribes the Doctor

**_29)_**_ Karin Chakwas, SSV Normandy doctor.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

The new second-in-command looked nothing like a seasoned warrior. Karin knew she was – the N7 on her armor made it clear – but biotics aside, she wasn't that tall, scarred or impressive. N7s were forged through fire, broken and rebuilt countless times. Not even the scar, running from her forehead, down her left cheek before hiding in her uniform gave that impression.

Still, this was obligatory. Shepard sat in front of her, slouching slightly as no superior was in sight, and answered the psychological evaluation with steady and perfect replies. Fake too.

Karin stared at the results and then at the girl's face, impassive and pleasant.

"Done, Doctor?"

Of course, she couldn't prove it.

"Indeed," Karin stated calmly, shutting down the camera. "No. You need to redo this, reply truthfully and allow me to help you. If you do, I will keep this perfect test on record and teach you how to fail the right questions as to avoid suspicions."

Shepard blinked, finally surprised. She hadn't been bribed by doctors before, apparently. She also hadn't dealt with the amount of soldiers the doctor had. Silence was as good as assent.

"Let us get something to drink, shall we?"

The girl followed.


	30. Stumbles the Private

_**21)** __Richard L. Jenkins, Private of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

The hero of the Blitz. She was there and she was his Commanding Officer. Jenkins was no deluded boy, no naïve private to believe her to be more than an incredibly capable soldier but that didn't mean he couldn't be amazed by what she had done! Over a thousand Batarians! It didn't matter that she looked his age or how short she was in comparison. That only meant she was good at what she did.

"Commander? How did it feel like?"

Until that point, Shepard had been kind in response to his eager inquires. That all changed with his last question, her smile morphing and fading until there was something much more dangerous in the Commander's place. And when he thought she wouldn't reply at all and that he had trampled all over that fine line anyone older would tell him not to cross – the one he read in Presley's expression, who looked ready to hit him over the head – her lips opened.

"Like sleepwalking with a rifle on your hands, Private." Her smile, pleasant and polite and the glint of a knife before falling. "Never try it."

The event was later summed up nicely by Alenko's 'God, you _dumbass_.'


	31. Meets the Lieutenant

**_31)_**_ Kaidan Alenko, Lieutenant, __Earth Systems Alliance Nav_y.

**xxxXXXxxx**

There was no poetry in how Kaidan saw people. He was an analytical man and his mind worked with cold facts, black on a white canvas. Except when dealing with biotics. There, feeling was all that mattered. Asari, for example, were running water under his skin. Turians would always be sharp as spears and Krogan were a straight punch to the gut. A biotic could learn a lot by paying attention.

"Can you help? Please? Before I give up and find a hammer."

Kaidan turned the omni-tool in his hands, trying to figure out the issue. Jane seemed ready to bash it against the table and be done with it.

Biotics were all about feeling; the barest touch could speak. And her skin against his as he prodded the tool said more than anything she could have uttered. She didn't feel like water or sand, she wasn't even a weapon. All he felt was harsh, rugged and uneven like an old castle wall.

"I swear you need a college degree to understand these things."

There was nothing beautiful or poetic about it. There was nothing false or impractical either. It was simply what she was.

The lieutenant felt strangely reassured.


	32. Harasses the Turian

**_32)_**_ Nihlus Kryik, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"That's incredibly annoying."

The woman kept reading over his shoulder. Nihlus had been told humans lacked boundaries and he had already been inclined to believe. He didn't need proof.

"That book's sold out in five systems around Sol. I thought I'd have to wait until the Citadel."

The turian gave her a look. She would _still _have to wait because there was no way he'd go along with this absurdity. She was leaning on his _fringe._ And why? Because of a book? He was the Specter, the blot in the human crew who stared like he would attack once their backs were turned. This woman was crossing a line for a book? Bullshit.

"…this _really _about a book?"

She hesitated as if she didn't understand. "Why else …?"

Or perhaps the woman was that childish and annoying. Her small hand, too many fingers coated in fragile beige skin, came closer to turn the page.

In his confusion, he allowed it.

_**xxxXXXxxx**_

_Anderson knew Shepard for a long time and was used to her idiosyncrasies. Which is why he didn't blink when her first reaction to Nilhus was 'opinions on the tenth chapter?'_

_He saved his surprise for when the turian replied._

* * *

_**AN.** In my defense, I never said Jane wasn't weird._


	33. Follows the Leader

**_33)_**_ David Anderson, Captain, __Earth Systems Alliance Nav_y.

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Captain." Shepard stood by his side, refusing to move before he spoke. Eden Prime and the Specter could wait. To her, Alliance came first just as her Captain came first. She would follow whatever _he_ said – no other – and her trust had no limits.

Her life felt like physical weight on his hands.

It wasn't new. It was the feeling before every dangerous decision, the one which accompanied every storm, every calm before it and every break afterwards. No officer David knew cherished that sensation – the idea of sending soldiers to their deaths. It wasn't new and it wasn't different when placing Jane's life on the balance. He had killed countless friends already. God forbid, she would be just one more count in his vast tally.

"In and out, Shepard," he declared simply. "No crazy stunts."

Yet, he trusted her to do her job and return, Nilhus' esteem earned and a place where he was once supposed to be. He trusted her to, come tomorrow, be right where she was now, beside him and waiting.

His trust was likely as heavy a burden as hers in him.

"Good hunt, Commander."

Without looking, Anderson knew her to be smiling.

"Always, Captain."

* * *

_**AN.** In case no one has noticed, I'm a sucker for Anderson._


	34. Finds the Smuggler

**_34) _**_Cole Smith, Farmer and smuggler._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"T-They are. Dear god, they're..." Jena couldn't finish the thought and Cole couldn't blame her. "They are being _corrupted_."

He wouldn't have used those words though they did apply. The spikes crossed their friends' bodies like repulsive foothills, red blood coloring skin before transforming into putrid purple. Against Jena's wish, Cole had already locked the trailer. No one would enter, no one would leave. The others should have known better and hid like they had. It wasn't his fault that they would die. It was theirs, they didn't do better.

His horror had no words when the door opened without warning.

"They didn't run because of black market goods?" A male voice commented. "That's a special type of idiocy."

That was his home and he had tried. That was his home and he was weak. Hiding was all he had been able to do, helplessness making itself feel like few times before. But you didn't confess to fear and powerlessness. You just didn't.

The leader stared at him, long and non-judgmental, yet kept quiet – at least, until her companions started down the hill. Only then, she stuck her head back in.

"No shame about it. Next time, remember a rifle."


	35. Dreams the Human

**_35) _**_Jane Shepard, Commander of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

_There was light. There was darkness. There were screams, someone was screaming, everyone was screaming and her skin felt like it was ripping underneath God's fingers. There was fire, consuming everything around her, buildings, cities, worlds and their voices pierced through the explosions and split her mind apart. There was fear, hers and theirs, and she was the mother holding the child and she was the child, the father, the grandfather, the parentless and forgotten at the corner. She was all and none of them and felt everything. Smoke filled her body, blood flowed from her flesh and the one she held. _

_They arrived and her cry rose with a thousand others._

"Commander!" Someone held her down, trapping her in the bed she didn't know to occupy, and when Jane opened her eyes, the one who met her was the Doctor. She looked scared. Of her, her actions or some sort of premonition?

"Are you alright?"

Her voice was kind, like her mother's was after a particularly hard nightmare. Nevertheless, the Jane who would have confided in her had learned how much better it was to shoot whatever frightened her.

"I'm fine, Doctor."

After all, Jane had always liked puzzles.


	36. Mourns the Chief

**_36) _**_Ashley Williams, Gunnery Chief, 2nd Frontier Division_

**xxxXXXxxx**

During battle, there was no time to mourn. It wasn't a conscious choice; there was simply no time. Once outside, mourning was eventually interrupted by those who thought them to be broken and could use a friendly shoulder. Ashley was a good soldier; no way would she whine to anyone, especially her new XO.

"I don't want to talk."

Jane said nothing, simply continuing to clean her shotgun. No words or platitudes were offered, no comfort for her loss. Which was actually good, Ashley supposed; the soldier was sure to blow up and destroy any chance for a promotion if she had. It was also annoying. Didn't she care about those losses?

"Why are you quiet?"

Fine, she was conflicted over the subject. Sue her.

"Excuse me?"

"You didn't insist."

The Commander stared at her like she was insane, cementing the childishness of her arguments.

"Of course I didn't. I'd have punched anyone who insisted if I was in your shoes," the brunette scoffed. "I'm not masochistic."

That sole sentence, it oddly showed that Jane understood what she was feeling. And understanding was far better than platitudes any time of the day.

Ashley returned to silence and their methodical task.


	37. Conspires the Navigator

**_37) _**_Charles Pressly, Navigation Officer of the SSV Normandy, Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Anderson's dead worried."

"We _are_ returning from the shakedown cruise without a Specter and a colony destroyed."

"Political backlash?"

"Downright shitstorm, Commander."

The two officers didn't look at each other. Instead, their whole attention was on Anderson – fair, understanding, strict as few Anderson. Pressly admired the man, how couldn't he?

"I can take the blame." It sounded bluntly nonchalant coming from her lips. "I was the one commanding the recon team, who else would be more believable when saying 'I screwed up'?"

Shepard didn't admire him. She was loyal, loyal in a way for which the soldier had no explanation for.

"You do know that, without a credible eyewitness, he'll just contradict you?"

"That's why I have you, officer."

Sensing something was off, Anderson stopped pacing and turned to them, eyes moving from older man to younger woman.

"What are you two conspiring about?"

"I'm no child to conspire," Presley added calmly.

"Not smart enough to conspire." Shepard shrugged, legs swinging lightly.

No gazes were exchanged, no extra words, no comments about their half-baked plan. It wasn't needed when understanding was already established. Who else would guard the caretaker, after all?

Behind Anderon's back, Navigator and Commander shook their hands.


	38. Complains the Warrior

**_38) _**_Ashley Williams, Gunnery Chief of the SSV Normandy, Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

The Citadel transpired magic with every building, every alley and light. Of them all, the Commander seemed the most into it. There was something incredibly childish about the way the woman kept staring at the city, sitting on the precarious balcony.

"Weren't we supposed to report to the Council immediately?"

Ashley wasn't into it.

"According to Marie," the Commander commented. "I'm also supposed to send her a gift from every place I set foot in_. Ahah_."

The Chief didn't bother to ask who she was talking about. Instead, she remained behind the other as only an annoyed mother would. Shepard allowed it for a total of ten minutes before losing her patience.

"Look, chief. I'm pretty sure I'm not that much older than you but lemme share something. This view?" She opened her arms wide as if trying to hug the Presidium, uncaring for the way she tilted slightly into the abysm. "It's worth _anything_. It's always a good thing to take time to breath in between blowing up whatever Anderson wants us to blow up. Now, go somewhere and let me bask."

The last sentence was as authoritative as any order in battle.

"And if _anyone_ asks? I'm lost."


	39. Greets the Policeman

**_39) _**_Garrus Vakarian, C-Sec officer._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"I hope they listen to you, Commander."

As if, he can almost hear her. She is an unknown variable, human and a soldier; at most, they will see her as an annoyance.

"Do you _honestly_ believe they will take anything I say over one of you?"

She's calling bullshit. He would too. If Garrus didn't suspect Saren, if he didn't know he was up to no good…

"No."

Until that moment, the Commander had been unfailingly unsympathetic (he thought, that blank expression could mean anything) and polite. When faced with his reply, the human's lips twisted, teeth flashing white. Was she angry? Was that amusement? Hunger? It was quickly hidden after a look from her Captain.

"The idea of someone trying might make them pay attention to more than themselves."

To his surprise, Garrus had been the one speaking.

To his greater surprise, Shepard looked at him, lips twisted wider and a strangled – honest – sound escaping her throat.

"Commander," scolded the older official.

"All quiet, Captain."

A scoff.

"You're thinking it."

"I'm thinking they got an honest cop searching for proof they don't want."

"I'm thinking you shouldn't add that part with the Council," Garrus intervened. "I mean. Maybe. Commander."


	40. Evaluates the Councilor

**_40) _**_Sparatus Gyantis, Turian Councilor_

**xxxXXXxxx**

The nerve of that woman. Marching calmly up to the pedestal, turning to people so much wiser than her and accuse a brother of his. Well, perhaps not brother but Saren was certainly more familiar and trustworthy. Humans were all like this; they thought they held the truth in their hands and barged through everyone else.

Sparatus allowed his distaste to show, the barest twitch of his mandibles while listening to the woman's speech. Above him, Saren smiled, sharing both distaste and humor.

This was a warrior of the humans, he pondered, turning his attention back to the woman. She would barely reach his shoulder when standing. And what was with those things on her head? It looked as if she had lost time ripping fabric apart and gluing it onto her head. She wasn't even as educated as her ambassador who, while insultingly proud, managed to remember he was nothing in comparison to the Council.

Shepard did no such thing. Her teeth bared, stubbornness in every line of the alien face. "I'll find proof."

The councilor hesitated in his disbelief. Betrayal existed everywhere, even in his own den.

Then he laughed and forgot the thought ever touched his mind.


	41. Spies the Pervert

**_41) _**_Jeff Moreau, Flight lieutenant of SSV Normandy, Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Your signal hasn't left Chora's Den for a while, Commander. Busy?"

A large part of his duties – ordered by Anderson himself – had been to keep an eye on Shepard. According to the Captain, while she was a good officer, she would occasionally be sidetracked by innocents, criminals, old people or shiny things in her way. And so he did. The small camera installed on Shepard's uniform had been showing nothing bar _pink_ for a good amount of time.

"Ashley's ready to kill people," she informed dryly. "Alenko's tripping over his own tongue and I was adopted by a Krogan Battlemaster."

"So if anything explodes?"

"Anderson should have known better than to give me free reign."

Joker couldn't see the woman's face but the sound, the undertone of her words spoke of someone wishing a wall to bash its head against.

"Commander? A quick question. Why is the camera showing nothing but pink?"

"It's inside my drink. The drink is pink."

Joker frowned at the cockpit, silently asking. It gave him no answer. Obviously, he had to make the rather obvious question.

"Why?"

"It was connected while I was in the bathroom."

_…right._

"I'll be going now, Commander."

"Thought so, Lieutenant."


End file.
